Three Minutes

I’ve been thinking a lot about grace, mercy, and forgiveness lately.

Last week I got a phone call disguised as my worst nightmare as the parent of a non verbal child with special needs.

The voice on the other end used words…

Adult protective services…
Complaint of neglect…
Investigating whether substantial…
An incident on May 3…

A person hired to care for Wesley failed to do so.

The investigator came to the house forty-five minutes later. She told me she reviewed the video. For three minutes he was in danger. For three minutes he was ignored.

The overseeing entity was apologetic. They were transparent. They showed me the video. I hoped it wasn’t as bad as I imagined. But it was.

I cried. It was heart-wrenching to watch my child struggle. He tried to fix himself but didn’t have the strength. He looked scared. She was less than three feet away. For three minutes he was in danger. For three minutes he tried to get her attention. For three minutes she never even looked at him.

Another employee not assigned to Wes is the one who saw. Three minutes could have been longer if not for her.

As upset as I was, I felt compassion for the employee. I asked how she was. I knew she didn’t maliciously ignore Wes. On any other day three minutes might not have been as big of a deal. It was just on this day in those three minutes my son could have been seriously injured or worse. On this day the negligence of those three minutes put my son at serious peril and video captured it.

The director told me the actions taken to ensure it wouldn’t happen to Wes or any other student. She apologized again. She thanked me for being understanding and forgiving. She said most people would not be.

I was upset. I was livid. I told her this…

“My faith is important to me. I am called to forgive. Nothing irreparable happened but even if it did, I have to forgive and show mercy and grace because I have been forgiven and I have been shown mercy. I have received grace even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Having faith and professing to believe something is no more challenging than when it is inconvenient and when we have been wronged, whether intentional or otherwise. It is exactly then it matters the most.

My actions deny my emotions. In that moment when anger holds the weight of me, I choose mercy and grace and in that moment I make my Father proud. My children see their mother put down the almost unbearable weight of anger which can only grow bitterness, resentment, and contempt. They bear witness to a mother who chooses to walk in freedom with Grace rather than be dragged by anger. I pray they will do the same.

And so, without reservation or condition, I forgive this person. I wish her only the best. And when she has the opportunity to show someone else mercy and grace, I hope she does.

Grace isn’t just for the person who, though unintentionally, wronged us. It is for me and I will gladly, joyfully, and gratefully walk in that the rest of my days.